


Major Arcana

by lu_woo



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Demon Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Demon Summoning, Human Johnny, M/M, More tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 04:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21112934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lu_woo/pseuds/lu_woo
Summary: “Doing this will change my life.”Because along with summoning one of the most powerful demons possible, it comes with a reward, a lifetime of luck, something that will completely alter how Johnny lives. A lifetime of luck will mean his career can come back. He can move out of the shabby apartment that slowly slips away on top of the laundromat. Perhaps people will begin to like him again, it could be for selfish reasons, seeing how Johnny has somehow flourished, benefiting incredibly from the things that they were so scared of. It’ll verify for him that these last three years haven’t been for nothing. He hasn’t given up so much only to be left with nothing in return. Once he can summon this demon, the crown prince of the underworld, Johnny’s entire life will change in an instant.“Jaehyun will change my life,” Johnny says firmly.





	Major Arcana

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lightningsenses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightningsenses/gifts).

Card 1: The Fool

( prologue ) 

Black shoes walk slowly along the dark road. Heavy, consistent rain has caused large puddles in every direction, nearly flooding the whole street and with each step, water splashes out and spreads from under his shoes. Even now, a steady stream of raindrops is hitting the tops of Johnny’s shoulders as he walks, nearly soaking through his long jacket. The wind isn’t much better, constantly blowing the rain onto his face along with pushing dried leaves through the air, the majority of them getting dropped in puddles only to slide along with the current it’s created. 

Johnny steps to the side, hearing the sloshing of wheels going through the puddles and the humming of an engine coming from behind him. His eyes meet with a child that has it’s head sticking out of the window. The child, no older than ten by the softness of his features, is staring at him, eyes dark and mouth curled into a frown. There’s only a few seconds of contact before the car moves past him but the child leans his head out, looking back at Johnny as it continues to drive down the street. There’s a heaviness in Johnny’s chest that makes him take a deep breath and he lets it out in a long exhaled sigh. 

Doyoung’s home is on the east side of the town. It’s tucked away at the corner of a street, detached from the tight row of houses only a few feet away. Doyoung has a model home, as Yuta likes to call it. There’s a large yard with a black iron fence that matches the black paint on the outside of his home. A gate that Johnny pushes open, creaking filling the night air and a loud clanking as he shuts it behind him. There’s flowers that are struggling to survive, petals darkened and curling at the edges, most of them wiggling at the drops of water hitting them when Johnny walks along the path. 

Doyoung’s home has a large door, one that’s nearly bigger than him. It’s got an iron handle that contrasts against the dark wood and it echoes throughout the quiet air around him with each hit it makes. Johnny tilts his head, hands pushing into the pockets of his jacket as he waits, shoulders slightly tense from the cold. 

There’s a light that flickers on, illuminating through the frosted windows that pane the door. Johnny takes a step back when he hears the jingling of the lock. The door opens slowly, creaking just like the rest of Doyoung’s home. He’s met with Doyoung’s face, eyes hidden behind round glasses and black bangs resting at the top of his lashes. The other opens the door all the way, arm signaling for Johnny to enter. 

“I haven’t had any luck,” Doyoung says softly, voice muffled by the closing of the door behind them. “Neither has Yuta.” 

Johnny runs his hand through his wet hair, fingers getting slightly tangled, struggling to get through the ends. He turns to look at Doyoung, tongue darting out to lick at his lips before parting them. “Did you get anything at all from the search? Any,” Johnny pauses, chest sinking as he tilts his head. “Any clues? A single _inkling_ of where it could be?” 

“Johnny,” Doyoung starts, hands landing on his hips and body shifting its weight to one leg. “I don’t think you _realize_ what you’re asking me to find.” The other runs his hand through his hair, letting out a huff as he walks past Johnny, fingers tapping against his jaw. “I’m not a magician, I can’t make this appear out of nowhere like you think I can. I don’t even know where to find this gem and saying it’s in a desert doesn’t particularly help either.” Johnny’s brows furrow and he parts his lips only to quickly shut them when Doyoung begins to speak again. “I’m doing everything I can.” 

He didn’t come to Doyoung’s house to argue with him. He didn’t walk two miles in the rain through the night to send subtle glares at each other. Johnny lets his shoulders relax, eyes meeting with Doyoung’s. The other now has his arms crossed over his chest, fingers tapping along his arm. “I’m sorry,” Johnny breathes out. “I know you’re trying your best. I don’t mean to be ungrateful.” 

“I know, Johnny.” Doyoung says softly, eyes casting down to break their contact with Johnny’s. There’s a brief pause, one that only lasts long enough for Johnny to take a single breath before Doyoung is looking at him again. “Shall we have wine?” 

With a nod, Johnny agrees, eyes following Doyoung as the other walks out of the foyer and into the living room. Johnny takes slow steps, wet shoes squeaking against the hardwood floor as he walks towards the living room. Fingers flick on the lightswitch, watching as a yellow tint illuminates the room. Johnny walks past the large bookcase full of more books than Johnny can count, all of them organized by name. He settles himself down on the couch, body sinking into the leather, the soft sound of it deflating under his weight filling the air. 

Eyes go to the coffee table, focusing on the stack of books that have ribbons sticking out from them. Johnny leans forward, one hand resting on the table and free hand turning the books around to get a better look at them. _The Lapidary of Sacred Stones, Pseudomonarchia Daemonum: The False Monarchy of Demons, and The Dictionary of Demons: Names of the Damned._

There’s a glass of wine placed on the table that makes Johnny look up at Doyoung, watching as the other takes a long sip of his own wine. Doyoung is dressed in all black. There’s nearly skin tight black pants that hug the subtle curves where his legs meet his waist. A black button up that has the faintest shimmer of what looks like gold glitter running along the ribbons of vertical stripes. Doyoung’s pale skin contrasts with the darkness of his outfit and his black hair, bangs neatly covering his forehead. 

“How are your classes going?” Johnny wraps his fingers around the thin stem of his glass, wrist moving subtly but enough to have the red wine swirl. “Exams are soon, yes?” 

Doyoung lets out a sigh, setting his glass down before he joins Johnny on the couch, body immediately falling against the back cushions. “Yes,” he says dryly, “My students are doing well. They could be doing better but I chalk it up to the fact that only about half of them show up.” 

Johnny’s lips curl into a smile around his glass, eyes meeting with Doyoung. “You know,” he says, pausing to take a sip of his wine body turning towards Doyoung, elbow resting on the back of the couch and one leg bent on the cushion. “You’d think kids these days would be all about demons and summoning creatures from hell.” There’s a laugh that pushes past Johnny’s lips as he presses the glass up to them, taking another long sip. 

“I think it’s more about the parents not wanting their children to be associated with such things.” Doyoung sighs, fingers pushing up the glasses on his nose. “Frankly, if I wasn’t already meddling with the creatures of hell I would feel the same way.” Doyoung shifts, body leaning over to grab his wine glass. “But it gives me something to do while we wait.” 

Doyoung isn’t _exactly_ a professor. He’s got no teaching experience whatsoever yet for some reason, he had decided to pursue teaching an elective at the college down the street. It’s one class a week, starting after the sun sets and lasting until nearly ten, and there’s a total of ten students that most of the time don’t bother to show up. Thankfully for Doyoung, it doesn’t matter how many people show up, as long as one does, his class still continues and he still gets paid. 

“It also takes you off the radar a bit because you can brush all your intensive research off on your class.”

There’s a grin on Doyoung’s lips and he tilts his glass forward, arm extending until his glass clinks with Johnny. “Precisely.” Doyoung leans his head back, bringing the glass to his lips, quickly finishing off the wine. There’s a content sigh and Doyoung clears his throat as he leans forward, setting his now empty glass on the table. “Are you doing well, Johnny?” 

It’s a question that Johnny never truly knows how to answer. There isn’t a simple yes or no. There’s a door for each, able to be opened but there’s more than expected behind each one and it’s a door that Johnny doesn’t know if he wants to open. It’s more than just a few problems that have come up, ones that Johnny likes to throw into a suitcase and lock up, acting as if they don’t exist. Yet they’re the reason why he doesn’t have a clear answer as to how he is doing.

“I’m fine,” he says, eyes cast down, focusing on the wine in his glass. “I’ve got a lot on my mind lately but I’m sure you’re aware of that.” 

“I know,” Doyoung exhales, legs stretching out and arms following. “This hasn’t been easy. _I_ haven’t been easy on you and neither have the others.” Johnny parts his lips, wanting to protest and deny Doyoung’s claim, even if it is true, though Doyoung speaks before he can say anything. “Don’t even dare to say otherwise.” It comes out as a laugh and Johnny sighs softly, shoulders slumping. 

“I feel like we haven’t gotten anywhere,” Johnny blinks before he looks up at Doyoung, eyes meeting with his, brows scrunching together and tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “It’s been months and we don’t have a single clue of where this gemstone could be.”

“Well Yuta should be back in the next few days and hopefully he has some information, whether it be good or bad, at least it’ll be more than what we have now.” 

Johnny nods with a gentle hum, quickly finishing off his own glass of wine, setting it at the table as he sucks in a breath. “Hopefully.” 

They sit in silence. The sound of rain hitting against the windows is what fills the room instead of their words. The rain is mixed with the consistent ticking of the grandfather clock that’s tucked away in the corner and the soft breathing coming from Doyoung. The subtle scent of must and time fill the room. It doesn’t come from Doyoung’s home itself but rather the things that he collects. 

The books on the large bookshelf to the left have hundreds of years of time stuck between the pages, dust from the past still lingering in the fibers. Dozens of small trinkets that Doyoung has picked up at antique shops and off the side of the road fill the space above the fireplace. Miniature figurines of sheep and goats, and the occasional black cat make the area almost come alive from their various poses. 

Vintage style pillows fill two arm chairs across from them. Pillows that look as though they should be some type of eccentric curtains rather than sit on the couch with their random patterns and vibrant dated colors. Even the throw blanket that hangs off the armrest of the couch is something that looks like it could come from Johnny’s grandmother's basement. 

“I wish I had more information to give to you,” Doyoung says softly and he rubs his fingers between his brows, squeezing at the bridge of his nose. “You came all the way here and I have nothing to tell you.”

There’s soft rumble of thunder that shakes the windows accompanied by a sharp howl of wind that blows the rain against the glass. Johnny shakes his head, hands rubbing against his thighs. “It’s not your fault,” he responds quietly. “I’ve put such a hard task on you and to demand results quickly is rude of me.” 

A hand reaches over, fingers gently pressing against Johnny’s knee. “We’re all in this together, Johnny. If one of us fails, all of us fail.” 

The sound of the old grandfather clock fills the room. It sings an almost broken song, hands twitching and gears whirring as it attempts to do its job. Johnny watches the way the small wooden doors open and for nothing to pop out, the wooden bird that once had a home inside the clock is long gone. 

“Would you like me to drive you home?” 

Johnny meets Doyoung’s eyes, tongue darting out to lick at his lips slowly before he parts them to speak. “That would be lovely,” he says, “I wasn’t aware it was supposed to rain so I’m wearing my nice jacket and I would hate for it to get even more ruined than it already has gotten.” 

Johnny’s home is nothing compared to Doyoung’s. It’s a shabby apartment on top of the laundromat that is empty more often than not. There’s wallpaper that looks as though it’s been hanging on for life for the last three decades and windows that don’t shut all the way. There’s a hole in the ceiling that has Johnny having to keep a bucket underneath it incase of days like this where it unexpectedly rains. 

That bucket is overflowing when Johnny walks into his apartment, keys jingling in his hand and door creaking behind him. There’s a sigh that pushes past his lips, foot nudging the door shut and hand tossing the keys over onto the couch. His jacket is shrugged off his shoulders, landing on top of his keys before he walks over to the bucket that has water spilling from the sides. Johnny tries to be as quick as possible yet careful, not wanting to spill any more water out onto his already warped floor. In a fluid motion, Johnny dumps the water out into the sink, quickly making his way back to the hole in the ceiling, setting the bucket down where it belongs, lips pursing into a pout at the large puddle on the floor. 

Still in his button up shirt and trousers, Johnny grabs an already damp towel, one that hadn’t fully dried since the last clean up, and pushing it against the floor. The towel doesn’t do much to clean up the mess, it’s only pushing the water around, slowly soaking it up with every swipe. With a sigh, he spreads the towel out on the floor, pushing himself up while wiping his hands off on his pants. 

The light in the bathroom flickers on after a few seconds, the yellow hue just bright enough to illuminate the room. Johnny’s tongue darts out to lick at his lips, watching himself in the reflection of the small mirror that’s hung on the wall. A yawn tugs his jaw down, eyes closing momentarily before he meets his reflection again. The rain has made his hair wet, the top a shade darker brown than usual. There’s red painting the whites of his eyes from lack of sleep and the hours he spends searching through the dozen books he’s got stacked up next to his bed. 

Fingers tug at the buttons on his shirt, thumbs popping them through the holes slowly. Johnny’s head tilts to the side, neck cracking and eyes closing at the feeling. The shirt gets shrugged off, hands tossing it into the small hamper that’s tucked behind the door. Pants are followed shortly after, underwear at the same time, Johnny not bothering to separate the two. 

The water is still warming up when Johnny steps into the shower. The coldness making his body tense up, goosebumps rising quickly along his skin. Johnny lets out a sigh, not bothering to step out of the water even with the unpleasant temperature. Hands grab for the soap, letting it sit under the water for a moment before Johnny presses it to his chest, taking his time washing every part of his body. 

As the water warms, Johnny lets himself relax. The soap has been put back, his body has been washed, even his hair has been rinsed from the rain. Johnny pushes his hair back, hands resting against his cheeks, letting the weak stream of now lukewarm water hit his back. He lets himself stand in the water for several minutes. His mind is wandering around, staring at all the thoughts that have found a home there. There’s too many, too many for Johnny to focus on properly. It’s already late and he’s done his fair share of _what ifs_ and _if onlys_, so he reaches his hand out, turning the knob to the shower, letting the water slowly trickle to nothing. 

The air in the bathroom makes the hair on Johnny’s arms stick up. It makes his back arch and his chest rise quickly in a sharp breath. Wet hands reach for his towel, wrapping it around himself in attempts of warming up before drying himself. Teeth are brushed, face is washed, hair is combed slightly dry, and Johnny stares at himself in the mirror, tired eyes looking back at him. 

His closet is bare, the only thing hanging up are his work shirts, old white and black button ups that have survived years of washing and nearly a decade of work. A black one is picked out and Johnny grabs matching black slacks as well, the whole outfit being placed on the chair that’s tucked in the corner of his small room. 

Johnny wanders out into the living room, making his final rounds that he does every night before he sleeps. The bucket on the floor is emptied and the sound of dripping water against the plastic fills the room. He pours himself a cup of water, taking several sips as he walks to the front door, unlocking then locking it again. He does the same with the windows, wiggling them to make sure that they’re fully locked. 

With tired movements and feet that slide against the hardwood, Johnny makes his way to his bedroom. It doesn’t take him long to crawl into bed, blanket tucked under his chin and eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. He stares up at the ceiling, teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he closes his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the thoughts that seem even louder than before. 

One, two, three, four, sugar cubes are dropped into the coffee cup in front of Johnny. Two seconds of cream and six seconds of stirring, then Johnny lifts the cup up to his lips, tilting his head back as he takes a small sip. It’s hardly good, the cheapest ground coffee that his office can find gets made every morning and it sits for hours. This is his second cup but even the first one he had right as it finished brewing was barely satisfactory. Johnny still finishes the cup though, downing the lukewarm, weak coffee in a matter of a few swallows. 

His arm twists, watch glimmering slightly from the overhead fluorescent lights. 

“Johnny,” a voice says quietly. “Are you going to eat?” 

Johnny tilts his head, eyes blinking at the person that’s just walked in, a soft smile comes to his lips as he sees Taeil standing in the doorway of their break room. “Taeil,” he says breathily, “You’re back.” 

The shorter one smiles back at him, head nodding slightly. “I’m back.” 

“How was it?” Johnny lowers his coffee, setting it on the counter behind him, careful to put it far enough back so his elbows won’t bump it. “Did you find anything?” 

“Let’s discuss over lunch?” Taeil laughs out. “I can tell you all about it.”

Much like the break room, the cafeteria leaves much to be desired. There’s a few round tables with old plastic chairs that squeak when Johnny sits down. Much like the coffee, the food is rather bland and tasteless, the result of simple, cheap, frozen food that it most likely gotten from the grocery store around the corner. 

“How have things been going,” Taeil asks, fork pushing into a still rigid green bean. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in months.” 

“You haven’t,” Johnny laughs out, eyes watching his coworker instead of eating. “You’ve been away for _months_. So how was it?” Johnny knows he’s repeating himself, sounding a little too eager for his own liking but he’s curious.

Taeil hums, cheeks puffed out slightly with food. He takes the time to chew and swallow before leaning back in his chair. “Avoiding my question means things haven’t been going well for you.” Johnny narrows his eyes slightly at the comment but keeps his lips pressed together. “It was fine,” Taeil sighs out. “Weather was hotter than I expected.” 

“You were in the _desert_, Taeil, of course it was hot.” 

Taeil has been gone for the entire summer and into the fall. He left at the beginning of June and it’s now well into October. Taeil is the one that’s most frequently sent out to different countries and he’s the first in their office to be sent to the middle east to help uncover a possible new set of relics, something exciting and fresh for them. 

“How did it go though? I’m assuming it was successful since you’ve come back.” Johnny finally picks up his sandwich, fingers sinking into the soft white bread. “Or unsuccessful for the same reason.” 

Taeil finishes chewing as Johnny takes his first bite. “Successful for sure,” Taeil pauses to clear his throat, taking a few sips of his soda before continuing. “We found more than we expected to. I think this is going to be the start of something big.” Taeil shifts in his seat and the chair makes a loud creaking noise that fills the almost empty cafeteria. “Boss plans on sending a few of us out again in the next few weeks if the tests from the lab come back good.” 

“Wow,” Johnny nearly chokes out, surprised at the news, “He’s never sent people abroad that quickly again. Did he say who?” 

There’s a surge of jealousy running through Johnny. It’s a gentle current that has his ankles crossing under the table, has his fingers tightening their grip on his fork, pushing into his green beans slowly, anticipating what Taeil has to say. There’s a gentle smile that pulls Taeil’s lips up at the corners, barely enough to be considered a smile. The sight makes Johnny’s heart drop a few inches in his chest but he quickly, lowers his gaze, lips pressed together in his own faux smile. 

“I’m sorry,” Taeil says quietly, “I asked on our way home, you know I would love to have you with me, but he said-” 

“I know,” Johnny breathes out, sucking in a long breath before exhaling it as a sigh. “I shouldn’t have even thought about the possibility.” 

“You have your own things to work on though, right?” Taeil’s voice is encouraging, tone slightly higher and Johnny feels a hand on his arm, fingers pushing against it gently. “It wouldn’t be good to be away for so long anyways.” 

In all reality, Taeil is right, but there’s a conflict in Johnny that’s been there for years now, one that he doesn’t think will ever go away. A constant struggle to make a choice of what matters the most to him. Though at this point, it’s almost as if others are choosing for him. Choosing which path he should take for an uncertain amount of time. 

Johnny has a job, a rather well paying one, at least when he can actually do his job. Most of the time he’s stuck in the office, searching through piles of papers and reports and developing film that goes along with the never ending piles. It’s the same thing every day, no matter the date or the weather outside. Johnny comes in, settles at his desk and works until the sun has set. 

It wasn’t always like this. When Johnny first got hired, fresh out of college, he travelled quite a bit with their small company. He’s always stayed close by, flying across the country and occasionally across the Atlantic to Europe. He was doing what an archeologist is supposed to do with a proper job. Johnny has countless discoveries under his name, pieces in museums that credit him and his company for finding them. He’s written hundreds of reports and dissertations, even was on TV for one of those specials they show on the history channel. 

Ever since Johnny has fallen into an obsession over things not of this world, his career has also fallen down, down, _down_. When word got out that Johnny has been meddling with things that he shouldn’t be, everything slowly began to get pulled away from him. It started off small, his boss offered him two weeks of vacation, paid thankfully, and Johnny didn’t think anything of it, took it as a positive thing at first. Yet he soon came to realize that it was a way to get him out of the office while they figured out what to do about their employee that was attempting to interact with the underworld. 

Soon the news of Johnny’s new hobby became _actual_ news. He remembers specifically turning on the TV one night to see the fuzzy black and white video talking about how a local archeologist has been busying himself by attempting to summon demons. As one would expect, it didn’t exactly go over well with the public. 

Out of everyone, Johnny thought that his boss would be understanding. He thought that it would be okay, even if it’s not his cup of tea, he didn’t expect him to be so cold and judging towards him. For goodness sake, they go and dig up artifacts that may or may not be of this world, but apparently, they’d rather take the possibility of finding things from other planets than those from the underworld. 

So now Johnny is locked away in the office building, writing reports for the others that get to go out and discover new things. His name has been stripped away from many of the things that he’s discovered and done, their boss wanting his name off of nearly anything that represents them because they don’t condone his actions. And everyday that Johnny walks into the office, he expects a letter of termination to be on his desk. 

“There hasn’t been any new finds,” Johnny says quietly, fork pushing down into his forgotten sandwich, bread squishing under the pressure. “I’m waiting on one particular item but I have no idea where to look for it. Well, I do but it’s rather vague and I don’t exactly have the means to go and search all the possibilities.” 

The hand on his arm squeezes slightly before sliding down, Taeil’s hand landing on Johnny’s. The taller one looks up at the other, eyes meeting his soft gaze. “I’m sure things will work out for you.” 

Taeil is sincere with his words, Johnny knows that. He’s one of the only people that still talk to him in their company, at least willingly. Johnny was almost positive that he would have made some silent agreement with their boss to not associate with him after the news got out, yet Taeil never made it seem like he did. It’s not that Johnny tells Taeil everything that he does. While the other hasn’t isolated him like the rest of the people in their building, that doesn’t mean that Taeil supports his decisions. He knows the basics, Johnny has branded himself as a demonologist along with his three friends and they can summon demons. That’s all Taeil knows, Johnny not wanting to dabble in the specifics of their work, but Taeil doesn’t ask questions and the ones he does, are simple check ups to see if things are going well for them. 

Johnny is more than grateful for Taeil. Thankful for the fact that even if everyone in the office ignores him, scurrying away the moment Johnny walks through the door, Taeil is there for him, making his day the best it can be in his situation. The money and acceptance from his coworker are the only two things keeping him from quitting before he can get fired. 

With a smile, Johnny nods, lips pressing together tightly before parting. “We should get back. I’m sure you have a lot of work to do.” 

Taeil doesn't argue and they both quickly take their final bites before cleaning up. They part ways once they get into the office, Taeil going to one side of the room and Johnny staying on his side. 

The grocery store is always crowded when Johnny stops on his way home from work. Other people in business suits and skirts doing the same thing that he is, getting ingredients for dinner. While most people have their carts full of fresh vegetables and things to actually make a meal, Johnny’s basket that’s hooked on his arm is bare with only a frozen pizza and a can of fruit. One hand reaches out and grabs a box of pasta, followed by a can of spaghetti sauce. It’ll be enough to feed him for the next few days, enough for Johnny to nod to himself and begin walking out of the aisle. 

There’s a gentle shift in the air, one that has Johnny’s eyes narrowing. It’s most likely a drift of cold air from the automatic door constantly opening and closing while dozens of people come and go. It’s a coldness that nearly matches the temperature outside, making Johnny tilt his head enough for his neck to crack before he continues walking towards the cashier counter. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees something, a quick flash of light that’s also a shadow. Johnny bites at his lip, letting the basket slide down his arm, fingers wrapping around it. A sense of urgency washes over him and Johnny lets his feet take him to the cashier counter, probably walking slightly to fast and he knows he’s standing out. Though, Johnny is rather used to standing out at this point. 

The cashier takes his time, the person being a teenage boy, no older than sixteen or seventeen. It’s someone that he’s seen often, the boy being here most days that he wanders in after work. The boy always seems to have his eyes on him, gaze full of suspicion and caution. Thankfully he doesn’t ask a hundred questions like he normally does, following Johnny around like he’s a friend practically. Instead, he quietly puts the items in a bag and takes the small stack of bills that Johnny hands him. 

“Thank you,” Johnny breathes out, grabbing the bag from the boy gently. “Have a nice night.” 

“You too, Mr. Suh,” the other responds and Johnny can feel the eyes on him as he jogs out of the store, bag bumping against his thigh. 

The cold air hits him and Johnny shivers even with his jacket covering his arms. The leaves under him crackle and crunch, feet stepping on them quickly. The cold feeling doesn’t leave him, a cold that doesn’t come from the temperature. There’s something following him and Johnny knows that he has to either get home or get somewhere where the lights are dim and the people are sparse or nonexistent. 

Home is too far from the supermarket, at least a thirty minute walk. It’s a walk that Johnny makes often but right now, his heart is racing and even with the cold temperature, his palms are sweaty, hands shoved into his pockets as he walks with his head tilted down. Johnny can feel it getting closer, feel it breathing against his neck, silently telling him to _hurry_. 

It looks suspicious, Johnny knows, he watches as people turn their heads to look at him, bodies being illuminated under the street lamps as he runs along the sidewalk. The plastic bag hits his leg, jar of sauce banging against the same spot with every step. Johnny can see his breath as he breathes, white puffs of smoke coming out with every breath, contrasting with the darkness of the evening. 

The sidewalk disappears and turns into grass. The leaves are loud, breaking and crumbling with every step that Johnny takes, small piles being kicked up and ruined. Two months ago, even one month ago, the park would have been filled with children enjoying their afternoon before going home and working on homework and helping their parents prepare dinner. The swing set would be full, all three swings occupied by smiling children, de stressing from their day. Now, the darkness has taken over and the only thing that pushes the swings is the wind, making the seats jingle from the staggered movement. 

Johnny finds home in a cluster of trees, a bench nicely tucked between two of them where he sets his bag. There’s a lamp a foot or two away, illuminating the area enough to see but not enough to see from the street. He’s put himself far enough in the park, almost to the small woods that no one should be wandering back to where he is, especially at this time in the dark. 

Sure enough, within seconds of pulling his hands out of his pockets, the cold presence becomes overwhelming. Before Johnny can say something first, there’s hands on his face, covering his eyes. The hands are so cold, nearly the temperature of ice if he has to compare. 

“Guess who,” the voice says with a hum, fingers wiggling against Johnny’s eyes. 

There’s a scoff and Johnny lifts his own hands up, wrapping around the pair over his eyes and tugging them down. “You know that only works so many times, Ten.” 

With a huff, the other crosses his arms as Johnny turns around to look at him. “Would it kill you to play along anyways? There’s only so much fun I get a week and the least you could do is humor me with a reaction.” 

“Fine,” Johnny laughs out, “Next time, I promise I’ll be surprised and pretend to not know who you are. But,” he pauses, eyes widening slightly as he looks at the smaller one. “I know there’s a reason why you’re here..” 

Johnny watches Ten carefully, waiting for any kind of shift in his eyes, any movement in his face to indicate an emotion. Even in the dark, he can see that they boy is sporting eyeliner and there’s traces of glitter above his eyes and on the tops of his cheeks. He’s wearing his normal black jacket, a leather one this time, littered with chains and pins that Johnny can’t be bothered to read at the moment. There’s only certain reasons why he would make an appearance, only certain times he can, which means that he’s here for something and Johnny hopes that it’s positive news. 

Ten sucks in a breath, one long and deep, his chest rising and shoulders rising as well. “Yuta didn’t find anything.” 

Johnny bites at his bottom lip, letting a breath push out of him slowly. The wind stops and all that fills the air between them is silence and the small puffs of air that’s created by their breathing. Johnny feels his shoulders slumping and his heart sinking slightly. 

“We’re having a meeting at Doyoung’s house,” Ten says quickly, “that’s why I came to find you.” 

Doyoung isn’t the person that opens the door after Johnny knocks. Instead, it’s someone slightly taller, brown hair instead of black, lips that are plumper than Johnny’s own, and golden eyes that stare back at him. 

“Johnny,” the other says with a smile, “I’m glad Ten found you.” 

“It’s Tuesday,” Ten says from behind him, pushing his way past Johnny and the boy standing in the doorway. “He’s _always_ at the grocery store Tuesday evenings. At least that kid wasn’t following him around like usual.” Johnny can hear Ten sigh as he walks further into Doyoung’s house. “I swear he’s got some special demon seeing eyes.” 

Johnny rolls his eyes at the comment, knowing that he’s referring to the teenage cashier that rang him up today. “It’s nice to see you, Jungwoo.” Jungwoo smiles at him, nearly the same sad smile as Ten had given him before they left the park. The same sad smile because all of them know that this is another set back, especially because Johnny was _so_ hopeful for something this time, even the smallest of clues. 

There’s no more words shared as Johnny walks into the house. The sound of soft chatter is coming from the living room and the smell of Doyoung’s favorite cherry candle fills the air. He follows Jungwoo slowly, keeping his distance slightly as his mind tries to process the lack of a positive finding. 

Jungwoo slides onto the couch, leaning into the arm that Doyoung wraps around him. Ten has already made himself comfy on one of the armchairs, body practically laying down with his hands on the armrests. Yuta is off to the side, arms crossed over his chest and weight focused on one leg. 

“No Taeyong or Sicheng?” The question is quiet as Johnny sets his bag down onto the table, eyes focusing on the pizza that’s most likely no longer frozen that will need to be thrown away. 

“Caught up in work,” Doyoung says, eyes not bothering to meet Johnny’s as he runs his hand through his hair. “So naturally Sicheng isn’t here either.” 

There’s silence that falls over them, one that’s thick and nearly as heavy as the cherry scent filling the room. Everyone is busy doing their own thing, avoiding the reason why they’re all here. Ten is busy picking at the raised seam of the armchair, earning a glare from Doyoung. Jungwoo has his hands between his knees, fingers rubbing against each other and foot tapping against the floor. Doyoung’s hand is playing with the back of Jungwoo’s neck, tips running through his hair that’s gotten considerably longer since Johnny last saw him. Yuta is- 

“Johnny, I’m sorry.” 

“Yuta, you don’t need to-” 

“No,” the other says firmly, arms falling to his sides quickly, “I’m sorry, truly _fucking_ sorry that I couldn’t find anything.” The other runs his hand through his hair several times, squeezing at the roots before he rubs his hand against his face. “You gave me one job, one fucking job, and I couldn’t even do that for you.” 

“Yuta-” 

“Shut _up_!” 

Doyoung stands up quickly, hand pushing Jungwoo down gently, the boy having stood up after being cut off. He walks over to the other, hands grabbing at his shoulders tightly. “Don’t ever tell him to shut up again.” 

Yuta’s hands come up, quickly pushing at Doyoung’s chest, making him stumble backwards a bit. Jungwoo quickly pushes past Johnny, shoulders colliding with each other. “Stop it,” Jungwoo says firmly, hands pushing between Yuta’s and Doyoung’s. “You don’t push him,” his finger points to Yuta first, “and you don’t push back,” then to Doyoung. “There’s no need to fight,” Jungwoo breathes out with a frown, “especially not physically.” 

“It’s okay, Yuta, really,” Johnny starts, teeth biting down at his bottom lip for a moment before he parts his lips again. “I didn’t mean to put that much pressure on you and it’s okay that you didn’t find anything.” There’s frustration in Yuta’s face, one that Johnny sees twist and contort his features. His brows furrow, nose scrunches, lips press tightly together, jaw clenches, eyes lower to avoid his gaze. “It’s been stressful for all of us and I’m sorry if I should have helped you more or gave you better instructions but-” 

“You couldn’t have done anything more,” Jungwoo says quickly, soft eyes looking at him, accompanied with the gentlest smile. “I mean, Ten and I don’t even know where this could be.” 

“Jungwoo is right.” Doyoung’s hand lands on Yuta’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before dropping. “I’m sorry too,” he says with a frown, “I didn’t mean to talk to you like that.” 

There’s a soft sigh that comes from Yuta, hand rubbing at his face quickly as he pushes back his bangs, fingers threading through his red hair, not caring that his nicely put up ponytail is coming loose. “I’m sorry too,” he says quietly, “Johnny’s right, it’s been stressful for all of us and coming back here with nothing to give doesn’t feel great.” 

“We all knew this wasn’t going to be easy, Yuta.” 

Johnny takes careful steps, letting the floor creak with each one. Arms wrap around Yuta, pulling him against his chest. The shorter one hesitates for a moment before his arms wrap around Johnny, tugging him closer and burying his face against his jacket. A gust of cold air makes them both separate. The same time the cold air pushes through the room, the doorbell rings, making all of them look over towards the foyer. 

“Taeyong is here,” Ten sings, pushing himself off the couch, excusing himself quietly to go and let Taeyong in. 

Within seconds, a different boy shows up behind Yuta. One with slightly curled dark hair which he runs his fingers through, ruffling up his bangs. “Sorry we’re late,” he says, voice deep and slightly raspy. 

“It’s okay. We haven’t started the meeting yet.” Doyoung nods before he claps his hands together. “Though now that we’re all here, I’ll grab some bottles of wine for us.” 

Doyoung walks out as Taeyong walks in, Ten glued to his hip. Jungwoo returns to his spot on the couch and Ten pulls Taeyong to join him on the chair. Yuta and Sicheng talk quietly, shoulders pushed against the fireplace mantel, smiles in both of their eyes. And Johnny, Johnny finds a home in the other armchair, body leaned back, tugging the pillow out to place on his lap. 

It doesn’t take long for Doyoung to come back with two bottles of wine and an arm full of glasses that both Taeyong and Jungwoo tug out of his grasp to set on the table. One by one, everyone gets handed a glass, even Johnny as he shakes his head no several times. He takes one slow sip while the others finish their first glass within seconds, pouring themselves another one before getting settled in their places. 

“So,” Doyoung clears his throat quickly, body straightening up. “Obviously, we know that there has been no new information on where to find the gemstone. We’re all here to discuss what to do next.” 

Johnny watches as Taeyong takes a long sip of his wine, leaning forward to place it on the coffee table. “I’ve been doing some research and I may have found another spot that it could be at.” Taeyong sucks in a breath, biting down on his lip before he tilts his head, clicking his tongue. “It’s kind of a long shot though and I’m not even sure anyone will be able to gain access to it.” 

Taeyong shifts in his seat, pushing his hand in his pocket and he pulls out a folded piece of paper. Slowly, the paper gets unfolded and even from where he’s seated across the room, Johnny can tell it’s a map. Doyoung leans forward, hands grabbing at the piece of map from the other. 

“Syria?” 

“Listen, I know it’s not exactly the place we hoped for but I just have this _feeling_,” Taeyong says, hands waving in the air slowly. “It’s in a desert, that much we know, and according to all the research I've done this last week, we know it’s somewhere in the middle east.” 

“Taeyong’s right,” Jungwoo nods, back straightening and hands rubbing at his thighs. “It’s worth a try.” 

“They Syrian desert is huge,” Yuta sighs, hands landing on his hips as he begins to pace slightly in front of the fireplace. “It would take weeks, months, even to make a dent in the area we have to search. We’d have to get access to several different countries and not only that but be able to _survive_ out in the desert for as long as we need.” 

“Right, we can’t mindlessly wander the desert. It’ll be more risk than reward most likely.” 

Something clicks in Johnny, body sitting up in the chair and arm reaching out towards Doyoung. “Let me see the map.” 

The map is rather small, a page ripped out of a book by the looks of the jagged edges on one side. It seems as though it comes from an older book, no doubt one of the many that Doyoung has found for all of them. The corners are rounded down from time and the letters on the page aren’t all the way legible. The thing that strikes Johnny the most is that the map looks familiar. It looks so incredible familiar that his mind is running a thousand miles per second trying to figure out where he’s seen it before. 

Johnny can hear Yuta and Doyoung talking, Sicheng’s deep voice coming in every now and again. He hears the vague sound of the second bottle of wine being opened, cork popping and echoing throughout the room. Distinct voices melt into a jumble of indistinguishable hums, all while Johnny continues to stare at the map in front of him, eyes looking over the outlined portion that makes up the desert. 

Silently, Johnny stands up, pillow falling at his feet and eyes still locked on the paper in his hands. “We can do this.” 

The others become quiet, all of them staring at Johnny when he lifts his gaze. “Johnny,” Yuta sighs, “I know how bad you want this but going to the desert? It’s a crap shot.” 

“Isn’t there any way that you guys could go?” Taeyong bites at his lips, eyes running back and forth between Jungwoo, Ten, and Sicheng. “At least go and see if you can find anything?” 

“You know we can’t,” Sicheng replies. “We can come with you but you can’t send us.” 

“We won’t be the ones going.” Johnny turns the map around, holding it out towards the others. “This map,” he says, trying to push the smile off his lips because he can’t let himself get too excited. “This is the map we have in the office. This is where my coworker is going.” The smile creeps up on his lips again and Johnny can’t stop it this time as he takes a step forward. “They just got back actually but they’re going again so maybe,” Johnny pauses, feeling his hands begin to shake out of excitement. “He could have already seen it and if not, I can ask him to look for it.” 

Once again, silence falls over the room and all Johnny can hear is his heart beating out of his chest. He’s gotten so worked up, his palms have begun to sweat and his tie feels too tight. Johnny looks around at his friends, letting his own face fall slowly as he sees that all of them nearly have the same expression. 

“Johnny,” Doyoung says softly. 

“I know,” Johnny replies, biting down on his lip slowly, “_I know._” 

He’d have to go. He’d have to go with the team that’s returning to the desert, something he’s already been denied. That’s part of the rules of what they’re trying to do. Johnny has to be the one to touch the gemstone, the _only_ one. Even if he told Taeil the plan, he knows that Taeil would try his best but he wouldn’t be able to stop the others. They’d get ahold of the gemstone and run it through tests and most likely have a pretty display in a museum for it. If that happens, there’s no way Johnny would be able to take the gem for himself. 

Johnny or his own team has to take it. Yuta, Doyoung, and Taeyong all know that they can’t touch it, can’t even expose it to society because of the risk. It’s a rare gemstone for a reason and they’re all certain they aren’t the only ones searching for it. Though he’s almost certain that they’re not searching for it for the same reasons that he is. 

“I can’t go,” Johnny says quietly, voice soft and laced with sadness. “I’ve already been told no. I asked before they went the first time but they told me I couldn’t.” 

“Well looks like we’re not getting the gemstone then,” Ten says, throwing his arms up as he pushes himself off the chair. “Look, Johnny, we’ve been at this for months and the only lead we get is still nothing substantial. We’re running around in _circles_.” Ten’s hands land on his hips and he shifts his weight to one side, eyes staring at Johnny from across the room. “I think it’s time-” 

‘No,” Johnny says firmly, fingers curling around the map still in his hand. “Don’t you dare say it.” 

Ten continues to stare at him, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. Johnny feels and sees the others tense up. Jungwoo moves to the edge of the couch, Doyoung’s hand sliding up his back slowly. Sicheng takes a step forward, body now being seen in Johnny’s peripheral vision. Johnny watches as Ten parts his lips and the words come out of his mouth like poison. 

“Give up, Johnny.” Ten doesn’t budge from his spot, feet planted firmly on the floor. “This is pointless. Even if you did somehow manage to find the gemstone, there’s no guarantee that it’ll work. Do you understand how _hard_ it is to summon who you’re attempting to?” 

“Ten,” Jungwoo tries, standing up slowly off of the couch. 

“Don’t, Jungwoo.” Ten snaps, voice sharp and words seeping out between his teeth. “You guys figure it out. I’m not going to waste my time on something useless like this.” 

Within seconds, Ten is gone. There’s the distinct smell of something burning that makes Johnny’s nose scrunch up. The map is balled up in his hand and Johnny tosses it on the ground, arm swinging harshly and the small wad of paper bounces along the floor until it lands on the carpet under the coffee table. 

“Don’t listen to Ten.” It’s Jungwoo’s voice that is talking to him, hand on his shoulder when Johnny sees his feet in front of him. “You know how he is.” 

“I know,” Johnny breathes out, well aware of Ten’s frequent tantrums.

Jungwoo’s hand slides down Johnny’s arm slowly, squeezing every few seconds as it does. “Don’t give up. You’ve put so much work into this. I don’t want you to give up. He doesn’t want you to give up.” 

Johnny’s head tilts up to meet Jungwoo’s eyes. They’re a beautiful golden color, practically glowing as the other looks at him. “Does he still have visions?” 

With the smallest of smiles and a squeeze on his elbow, Jungwoo nods. “Everyday.” It makes Johnny’s shoulders relax, making him sigh out quietly. “Even before I left today, he told me he had one so you _need_ to do this, Johnny.” 

“Jungwoo is right.” It’s Sicheng that’s at his right, deep voice making him turn towards him. “This is the first time that he’s ever had visions of someone before. We’ll help you in whatever way we can but you can’t give up. He wouldn’t want you to.” 

There’s a tightening in Johnny’s throat and he can feel his eyes begin to swell up with tears. Johnny isn’t a crier, maybe once or twice a year and it’s normally when he calls his mother. He doesn’t want to cry right now, not in front of everyone else. So he swallows the lump in his throat and blinks away the tears that have formed in the corner of his eyes. 

For the last three years of his life, Johnny had made the decision to pursue this hobby of his. It happened by accident, stumbled upon an article while researching at work. One led to another, and another, and then Johnny was more than just curious. There were hours spent in the library, attempting to find books on the new subject that Johnny had found himself buried in. Then slowly, things began to fall in his favor. 

First he met Doyoung, both of their hands going for the same book and soon, Johnny was a regular at Doyoung’s home, mouth agape at the large collection of items that the other had. Doyoung is much more educated than him, more involved and Johnny remembers the third time that he knocked on Doyoung’s door and a pretty boy with golden eyes answered. It was the first time that Johnny had not only seen a demon in real life but the first time that he realized that Doyoung could summon demons and the boy in front of him was the result of that. 

Things spiralled from there. Johnny met Doyoung’s friends, the ones that are surrounding him now. Both of them just as eager as Johnny himself. Johnny was there when Taeyong summoned his first demon, helped him in the ritual and it was the most thrilling thing to ever happen to him. He was there when Yuta summoned his demon, his heart racing and lips brightly pulled up with a smile. Johnny wanted more and more, and _more._

Naturally, Johnny wanted to summon his own demon, wanted to almost prove to himself that he could do it. He had done so much research, spent nearly all of his free time with his nose in the books that Doyoung would lend him. He would walk to Doyoung’s home after work instead of going to his own apartment. The four of them, him, Doyoung, Yuta, and Taeyong would spend every weekend together, chatting and making plans on what to do next, always testing their limits. 

Then one night several months ago at nearly midnight, there was a knock on his door. Doyoung was the one on the other side of the door, a hooded figure tucked behind him that soon revealed themselves as Jungwoo once they both stepped into the safety of his apartment. It was that night that Jungwoo told Johnny that he had something to share with him. 

“You can summon him,” Jungwoo says firmly, “You’re the only one that can, you know that.” 

At ten past midnight, Jungwoo had told him that their crown prince had been having visions, ones that included Johnny. Those visions were ones of the future, ones that involved the both of them. Ever since those words slipped out of Jungwoo’s lips, Johnny has been doing everything he can to summon the prince, _everything_ he can. He’s been slowly crossing off the long list of items he’s needed to collect, tucking them away safely in a marble box at Doyoung’s home. Now the only thing left is the gemstone, one of the rarest in the world that’s hidden so deeply somewhere in a desert. 

They’ve been doing everything they can to try and track it down. At first, Johnny thought it would be easy, having three demons lingering around most of the time. Yet he soon learned that they aren’t allowed to help. They can’t give clues, they can’t search the human world for them, they can only be with them and offer support. Johnny is the only one allowed to touch the gemstone as well. He doesn’t completely understand it but Sicheng tells him it’s a special rule that helps protect their prince. 

That’s what Johnny has been focused on, finding the gemstone and completing the list of items that he needs to begin the summoning process. It will not only be the hardest ritual that their group will do but it’s the hardest ritual there _is_. 

“I won’t give up,” Johnny says, “I can’t. I’ve come so far, I’ve risked so much.” 

Johnny has nearly thrown away his entire career for this. All the hard work that he’s done, instantly taken away in a matter of hours after the news story aired. He’s at risk everyday when he steps outside, knowing that their small town always has their eyes on him, fearing for their own safety when they come near him. But after Jungwoo and Doyoung showed up at his home in the middle of the night with the news, Johnny has done nothing but try and make progress towards this ritual. 

“This will change my entire life. I _have_ to do this.” 

Sicheng’s hand presses against Johnny’s back, patting him gently. “Out of all the humans that he could have had visions of, I’m glad that it’s you Johnny.” 

“I doubt the crown prince of the underworld would ever let himself have visions of someone unworthy.” Doyoung laughs out, walking over to join the three of them. “You know they say if you summon a demon, it’s usually the personification of what you imagine in a partner.” 

Yuta scoffs from across the room. “Isn’t that a succubus? I highly doubt the prince is a succubus.” 

“He might not be but other demons are,” Doyoung says, voice muffled as he finishes off the glass of wine in his hand. Johnny sees Jungwoo shift in his spot, hand reaching up to rub at his own arm and Johnny doesn’t miss the blush on his cheeks either. “Besides, you know what I meant.” 

There’s a lighter air between them all and both Taeyong and Yuta walk to join them, smiles on their lips. “So we’re still doing it, right?” Taeyong says. 

With a breath and a nod, Johnny lets out a soft laugh. “Yes. I would still like to and if you guys are still willing to help, I'd love to have the assistance.” Johnny pauses, biting down on his lip slowly as he looks around at the others. He looks at each of them, eyes meeting and sees how their faces light up with smiles. “Doing this will change my life.” 

Because along with summoning one of the most powerful demons possible, it comes with a reward, a lifetime of luck, something that will completely alter how Johnny lives. A lifetime of luck will mean his career can come back. He can move out of the shabby apartment that slowly slips away on top of the laundromat. Perhaps people will begin to like him again, it could be for selfish reasons, seeing how Johnny has somehow flourished, benefiting incredibly from the things that they were so scared of. It’ll verify for him that these last three years haven’t been for nothing. He hasn’t given up so much only to be left with nothing in return. Once he can summon this demon, the crown prince of the underworld, Johnny’s entire life will change in an instant.

“_Jaehyun_ will change my life,” Johnny says firmly.

**Author's Note:**

> { i know not much has happened and things aren't all in place but this is just the prologue!! }


End file.
